Characters:
Rosie Brown 47
Henry Foxham-Chipper 57
Felicity Foxham-Chipper
55
This prizewinning version can be played as a two-hander, with Rosie
and Felicity transforming in quick-changes during phone calls.
These people are from England. Rosie Brown has a London East End accent.
Henry's armchair is stage centre, with an open laptop computer on a coffee table to its right. Books and papers are spread around on the floor.
Also on the coffee table is a phone.
There is a stool to the left for Felicity to sit on.
Introduction and Rosie phone or Rosie phone short cue Home phone - reference
Henry is sitting in his chair, swivelled with its back to Rosie.
Rosie is pulling the power cord from the vacuum cleaner.
She answers her mobile phone.
RB:
‘Ello. Yeas.
I’m at the Foxham-Chipper’s ‘ouse right
now,
struggling with this Magic Broomstick.
Nar, it
ain’t somart ta ride on
It's a new power 'ead fer the vacuum cleaner.
Well,
ee’ll be in at the University and
she’ll be out shoppin’
but soon as they’re back I’ll ask em.
I better get on.
Bye-bye.
Puts phone in pocket.
Switch on and . . . nothin’ ‘appens!
Ah, yeas, I ain’t got me electrics plugged in.
She removes a plug (Henry’s computer supply) from the power socket and plugs her machine in.
The machine starts up.
Oh! ‘elp! Now it’s takin’ orf by itself.
Hits the off switch.
Henry swivels round, stands
H: Are you having trouble with your Magic Broomstick, Mrs Brown?
Startled, to Henry:
RB:
Oh, Sir! Yer
gave me such a froight!
I thought yer was at the University.
Henry goes to machine
H: This goes in here like this.
That's fixed it.
We don't want you losing your head again.
RB: And just look 'ere, Sir. Paperwork all over me flawer.
H: And you are here again, Mrs Brown.
Mrs. Brown starts to tidy the papers
RB: Yeas, ‘ere I am again, same as always - Tuesdays and Fridays.
H:
No! Please
Mrs Brown! Don’t
muddle those up!
Would you please come back later?
I stayed home especially to concentrate on a very important piece of
work.
Henry picks up the laptop and sits.
RB: Sir, yer knows I ‘as ta clean, Sir.
H: You are relentless, Mrs Brown.
He puts his foot down on a piece of paper she is about to pick up
RB:
Yeas, Sir. The
Missus wouldn’t have it any other way.
Now would yer lift yer foot, please, Sir.
We don’t want this gettin torn do we, Sir?
Sir, there’ll be no peace for anyone until I ‘ave
this up off the floor.
She picks up the piece of paper and stands up, puts it on a stack on the coffee table with a book on top.
Thank yer, Sir!
H: Are we all done now?
She goes to the vacuum cleaner.
Henry crossly takes the piece of paper off the table and accidentally drops it onto the floor
RB:
Oh no, Sir! Now
I has to vacuum.
She’s bin grumblin' about fluff on yer carpet
She’s bought me this new power ‘ead.
I 'as ta get that fluff off yer carpet.
Vacuum starts, Mrs Brown aims at the paper
Vacuum sucks in the bit of paper
Henry leaps up, putting the laptop on the chair.
H: Stop! Stop that infernal machine! At once!
RB: All that shoutin’s not doin me ‘ead any good.
switches off vacuum
H: You
have just sucked
up an extension of Goedel’s theorem.
Ten years of my life have gone into that theorem.
RB: .....and now it’s gorn clean up me spout.
H: I have sat up all night. A vital solution was only moments away. It could have revolutionised scientific thinking.
RB:
It’ll be inside me
dust-bag.
Yer could try pokin’ about in ‘ere and see if yer
can find it, Sir.
H. pulls the machine apart.
Yer don’t want ta get yer ‘ands dirty, Sir
H finds the piece of paper
H: It’s here. Just look at the state of it.
RB: There it is, and no ‘arm done to the Universe.
H:
(reads) If S
is the set of all sets that do not contain themselves, does it belong
to itself
or not?
This is the question, but the solution is missing.
Rosie looks into power head
RB: Well, there’s nothin’ else in ‘ere.
H: Perhaps you have tidied the other piece away.
They confront each other, nose to nose
RB: That may be, Sir, but what you’re reading don’t sound like Goedel. It sounds more like Russell’s paradox.
H You are right, Mrs Brown. Goedel says there are theorems that are true that cannot be proved. How is it you’ve heard of Russel’s paradox?
RB: My son, Arfur, reads yer books. “Mysteries of Math-matics”.
H: One of my early books.
RB: And ‘Fun with Conundrums’. Yer Missus gives me a copy of all yer books. Arfur’s grown up with them. Ee enjoys yer conundrums best. 'E tries ‘em out on me.
H: And do you come to any conclusions?
RB: Oh yeas, o’ course, I do. Loike a second cousin to Goedel I am.
H: Do you make notes of your findings?
RB:
Oh no, Sir, I ‘as
real work to do. I
decided that
cleverer people than me were wastin’ a lot o’ time
on all that.
And I don’t do the Su-do-ku neither.
H grunts, then curiosity overcomes him.
H: I
had no idea that
that your son has an interest in science.
What is he doing these days?
RB: Ee’s out now. Ee’s done ‘is four years.
H: Out of, um? Has he been inside?
RB:
Yes, ee’s been in
University. Ee’s
got ‘is h-onours
degree, in IT.
IT means Information Technology.
H:
Yes, so it does,
thank you, Mrs Brown.
Did you er pay all his fees?
RB: Not loikely. A scholarship took him right through.
H: And what does a son like that think about you working here, doing a menial cleaning job?
RB:
Ee’s right proud of
me. I takes on the
most difficult and
needy folks. People
like you,
Professor. And I
sorts them out.
Oh yeas ee’s right proud of me keepin’ you toidy.
Henry has been prodded by Rosie's finger, is displeased, sits.
H: Well,
Goedel’s conundrum
is waiting for me.
Now where is the page I annotated in a blue book?
It was right here.
She picks up and offers him a red book.
RB: ‘Ow about this in the red book, Sir?
He takes it.
H: Thank you. I have managed to relate Propositional Calculus to Quantum Theory.
RB:
Yeas Sir, but before
yer get stuck in again,
there is a small matter of a ref’rence I needs to get from
yer.
H:
Oh, a reference? You
want a
reference? Well my
wife, Felicity and I
will do our best.
You’ve found somebody even more needy than us
on whom to bestow your relentless diligence,
telephone rings cue Logging in
have you?
RB: Oh, it’s not that, Sir. It’s . . .
H: Ah. Excuse me.
H answers it.
Hello.
Ah, just hold on will you.
(Mrs Brown, it’s my son Gerald, would you please find
something to do in the
kitchen for a few moments.)
RB: About the reference, Sir, there’s somefin’ I should tell yer . . .
H: Later, Mrs Brown, please.
RB: But I needs ter tell yer...
H: Please, Mrs Brown, go!
RB: Yeas, alright, Sir, I’ll leave yer in peace.
Rosie starts to exit but returns.
Sir, would yer like me ta take the vacuum cleaner away?
H: No, it’ll be fine there. Just leave it and go, please.
RB: Be just as easy to take it to the kitchen.
H:
Just leave it there
and give me a bit of peace.
Thank you, Mrs Brown.
RB I’m goin’ quick as I can, Sir.
H: Goodbye, Mrs Brown. Plenty to do in the kitchen, I'm sure.
RB: Yes, thank you Sir.
H: Thank you, Mrs Brown.
Exit Mrs Brown.
H:
Gerald, now I can
talk to you.
I am glad you rang; we never seem to have any time to catch up.
How are you getting on over there?
No, you
can’t speak to her; your
Mother’s out shopping.
Won’t I do?
I see.
But, your Mother gave you a hundred dollars only yesterday.
So, you’ve missed another probation appointment and you want
another hundred
dollars to pay your fine?!
If they ask you to report in, then you report in to them.
No,
another letter from me won’t get you
off. You’ve
nobody to blame but
yourself. What you
did was disgusting.
I want a son to be proud of. I
won't
pay and that's my last word.
Your Mother is not going to help you either.
She can be tough too.
She puts
me through it. Oh
yes, we all live with
inconvenience. I
have to cope with Mrs
Brown on a regular basis. You
should
count your blessings, my boy.
You get a job, son; that’s how you pay for it. You get up off your backside and . . .
What was that? A job?
You expect to be offered an interview? Well, grab the chance, boy. That would certainly make a difference to my attitude. Yes, a great difference. It might smooth your way with the authorities too.
That’s right, son. You do that, and keep me informed.
he rings off
Now where was I with Goedel? I hope I get a bit of peace now.
Enter Felicity, carrying a quantity of upper-class shopping bags.
No, Mrs Brown, not now, please go and find something else to do!
F: It’s me dear. It’s me!
H: Ah, Felicity my dear, how were the shops?
F: The shops were impossibly crowded. I kept bumping into people I didn't want to meet, all asking me the same question.
F sits, pulls off show, rubs foot. Henry notices.
H: More shoes?
F:
Yes, so
disappointing, I already hate them.
They're agonising. They
pinch.
I've wasted all this money on painful shoes because of the tension of
not
knowing!
H: Not knowing . . . what?
F: If I have been offered the lead role in the musical.
H: Oh yes, was it Beauty? Or the Beast?
F: The Merry Widow!
H: Nothing in the mail-box?
F: I've looked twice!
H: Phone them.
F: No, it's so awkward. If I didn’t get the part – they will gloat!
H: Maybe they've sent you an email.
F: Maybe they have! Please go online and check.
H: You’ll have to pass me the telephone lead, dear.
F: I will limp over and get it.
F walks to side of stage and brings back
a long telephone lead
that H plugs into the computer.
F in her free moments unpacks shopping bags and tries shoes
on.
You are sure they didn't phone?
H: Gerald phoned.
F: Gerald. How is he?
H: He missed his probation appointment again this week.
F: Oh, the poor lamb. So, what happens now?
H: It will cost me another hundred dollars.
F: That’s not too bad. And how long does this go on for?
H: Well there is a tiny light on the horizon.
F: Yes?
H: He is applying for a job!
F: He's what?
H: Applying for a job!
F: Gerald! Applying
for a job?! What job?
What ever can he actually do?
H: Who
knows? I
don’t.
Hold a couch down, perhaps.
But he did mention a possible interview.
F:
(laughs)
Our boy is going
to an interview?
Deep down I’ve always had faith in our Gerald,
ever since he won that colouring competition?
H: He
was in pre-school,
four years old.
And you did it for him.
F: Don’t
argue over
semantics, not now with a job in sight.
I'll phone him and give him some encouragement.
H hands F the cordless phone.
It is only half past three, but if he phoned you . . . he must be up.
She phones out.
Gerald, are you up and
dressed, darling?
Not dressed yet!
Never mind, I’ve just heard about the marvellous new job!
And we have a couple of teeny-weeny suggestions to make.
Before
the interview, we both think you
should - get your hair cut.
Gerald, if ever there was a moment for a hair cut -
H: And a wash!
F:
and a wash - it is
now, before the interview.
It is what I would do myself. I
would
always have - a hair-do,
new clothes -
and new shoes
to make me feel more confident.
And I have never failed at an interview yet.
No, you Silly boy! I'm
not
trying to get a job!
Because
your Daddy copes with that sort
of thing. But
whenever he needs me
beside him, I am always there, looking my best.
Here is Daddy now.
F hands the phone to H rather forcibly.
H: Gerald,
buck-up, get
a shave!
And take out all your piercings.
Now then! That
language will not get
you anywhere!
Would you like to hear my offer or not?
H thrusts phone back to Felicity
Your son. He is not prepared to listen to me.
F: Gerald,
we are on
your side, trying to help you, darling.
And you do need Daddy to pay that fine.
H: If the fine is not paid, they'll lock you up.
What will we do? I suppose we'll come and peer at you through the bars.
F: What on earth made you do such a stupid thing!
I don’t care how bursting you were; you didn’t have to pee on the wheel of a police car.
Hands phone to Henry.
H: Four constables were sitting inside the car. That young policewoman was horrified. It took all my powers of persuasion to get them to drop the charge of indecent exposure.
F snatches phone back
F: You were very nearly locked up with the sex offenders.
Now listen to your father, please.
F hands phone back to H
H: Take out all the piercings!
Especially
that one.
It is very demeaning. It
is one of the
reasons I was glad when you moved out.
Your whole attitude and appearance disgust me. Personally
I . . .
F stops Henry
F: Calm down Henry. Talk to him quietly.
H: Son, take out the nose ring - and I’ll pay your fine. That’s my final offer. Goodbye Gerald.
H puts the phone down
F: Oh
dear, it didn’t go
too well..
We meant to be so encouraging.
You
know, if he is going out to work, he
will need a car.
I mean a nice car to show that we appreciate him.
Perhaps a sprightly little - red – sports car?
H: Absolutely not! He has only just passed his driving test, after the umpteenth attempt.
F: He ought to have a car now that he has passed.
H: I am serious. He’s not having any car unless he gets the job.
F: You are so fierce, Henry.
H: I have to be. You’ve spoilt him. He’s no son to me.
F: You
never played
football with him like normal fathers do.
He missed out on that.
H:
I couldn’t tear him
away from the TV. He
was a couch
potato!
A crisp muncher. You
gave him TV meals
on a tray, and he never showed any interest in me except as a source of
pocket
money.
Felicity comes to sit on a stool beside Henry to snuggle up to him.
F: Oh
dear.
What did your father do with his spare time?
H: He spent it in the pub.
F: Did you resent that?
H: I suppose I did, but not the absence of football, not with my eyesight and flat feet.
F: But you’d have liked him to do something with you?
H: Not really.
F: What could he have done with you?
H: I don’t know
really.
For one birthday I was given a model aeroplane. A real
grownup's glider,
balsa wood and
tissue paper.
It hung on my bedroom wall, looking very nice.
F: Yes.
H: Then one Saturday lunchtime he came back from the pub and decided we ought to go out and fly it.
F: Yes?
H: He threw it straight into a tree and that was the end of it.
F: How
sad.
Do you remember when we bought Gerald a model aeroplane?
H: Yes,
I wanted to help
him fly it.
But before we could get it unwrapped, he trod on it.
F: We
haven’t had much
luck with aeroplanes.
You know, my father was a very fine sportsman.
He rode to hounds.
H: Did your Mother ride them too?
F:
No. She
had weak ankles.
She sat down a lot, looking charming and rather inane.
H: Rather like Gerald then.
F: Yes, I suppose so.
Goes to sit in her own chair.
I wish
I’d thought about this earlier.
She just sat there all those years – until she died.
H: She probably needed something to buck her up. Perhaps a job.
F: More likely a little red car to zoom about in.
H: I’m sure the trouble was a lack of football.
F: My
Mother –
football? Oh, you
mean for Gerald?
No, he’d have hated it.
He liked to
sit.
Perhaps I should have had his ankles tested.
Anyway, at least Gerald is not mooching on our couch any more.
H: No. Now he is mooching off the government.
F: But
not for much
longer. He is set
to rise to great
heights now.
Young people can so quickly become - upwardly mobile.
Oh yes, once he gets the job there will be no stopping him.
Brighter days are on their way!
H: He’d better make a start soon, dear. He is nearly thirty!
F: Yes,
I know.
And heels are getting higher every year.
I just can’t wear them any more.
H: Perhaps you have inherited your mother’s weak ankles?
F: Really? Oh, Henry.
H: No. Of course not. I just think the lower heels suit you better.
F: You do? Oh good. I’ll have to go out shopping tomorrow again.
Henry types on his computer, logging in cue Phone rings - Sid
Ah, you're going on line at last, dear.
H: Now
what’s the
password?
MRSBROWN
I have to tell you something about Mrs Brown.
F: Yes, why has she left her vacuum cleaner in here?
H: I told her to leave it there. I needed to concentrate.
F: Did you stop her cleaning?
H: Yes....
F: She
has to clean.
She has my full permission.
I refuse to live in a slum. And that is that!
H: Your
cleaning woman
has asked us for a reference
I think Mrs Brown is going to leave us.
F comes right behind Henry saying forcefully as she stands behind his chair.
F: Mrs
Brown, leave
us!?
You've quarrelled with her again.
What did you say to her?
H: Me?
F: Yes you! Why else would she be leaving?
H: Perhaps she has decided to become upwardly mobile.
F: Mrs
Brown? No.
Maybe she’s squeezing in someone else on another
day of the week. Oh
I hope she won’t get too busy.
I asked her to spend a couple of days a week at Gerald’s
place.
H: You told me that Gerald was learning to cope.
F: I know, but I lied. When he left us, saying so triumphantly that he was going to cope on his own, he hadn’t realised the magnitude of the task.
H: Perhaps Mrs Brown wants to be shot of the whole lot of us!
F: I couldn’t bear it! Starting someone new is a terrible ordeal.
H: I
don't see why you
need to have anyone.
Just the two of us can’t cause very much work.
Now let me concentrate. I
am online,
checking our inbox.
You want to know if you got that lead role.
F: Well? Have I?
H: Nothing for you here. It’s all junk mail.
F: If Mrs Brown leaves I won't be able to do it anyway.
H: You will find a way.
F: How? Are you going
to do the
housework? All the
dusting.
You know that I am acutely allergic to dust.
H: I promise you dear, if I’m allowed to sit here in peace and quiet I won’t raise any dust. There is no need for all this vacuuming.
Henry looks down at his keyboard and
stays looking at it until
F demands he look up.
F moves left, slightly upstage of Henry.
F: We
have to have
vacuuming.
And the dishes.
And the bed linen.
And the ironing.
All your shirts.
It a full time job! This
is an
emergency!
Henry, will you please look up from that thing and listen to me!
This is a crisis. You
have to do
something! Urgently!
H: I don’t see what I can do except write her the reference.
F: So
limited! First
apologise for everything you’ve said
to her, and compliment her, cajole and coax her.
She’ll appreciate it more coming from you.
H: She’d
think I’d gone
bonkers.
She’d probably sue me for harrassment.
F: Offer to outbid the opposition. That will fix it!
H: (sighs)
F points to the computer.
F: If she does leave I shall - erase your hard disk and throw away your gizmo.
H: I
am lucky that my
thumb drive is still working.
She put it though the wash again this week.
F: You obviously left it in a pocket.
H: Oh
- hang on, here’s
a message from a computer company.
It’s a form asking about Gerald!
F: It’s his job! The dear boy has chosen us as his referees.
F sits on the stool beside Henry, taking an interest in the computer.
H: Who else could he call upon? His probation officer?!
F: What do they want to know?
H: How
would you
describe his character?
“Arrogant?”
F: ‘Strong minded’
H: “Aggressive?”
F: ‘Assertive’.
Henry types, repeating resignedly:
H: “Strong
minded and
assertive.”
His manner of speech? -
"Pompous
and disrespectful"
F: Well spoken and personable.
H. types
H: “Well
spoken and
personable”.
General Attitude and Demeanour? -
Rude
and stubborn?
or should I say - loud and resentful?
F: Articulate and resolute.
H. types
H: “Articulate
and
resolute.”
Experience? - None?
F: He is well travelled.
H: Well travelled?
F: He moved across the road to the unit.
H. types
H: That’s
stretching
it. “Well
travelled.”
Achievements?
Stop! A pre-school
colouring
competition won’t cut the mustard.
H. types as she speaks
F: Try this: ‘From an early success in the arts his talents took him into the leisure industry, followed by a recent short study of the legal system.’
And be sure to mention his Culinary expertise!
H: Culinary? Gerald? He’s never even boiled an egg.
F: When I cooked his breakfast, he used to lean over to see if I was cooking enough sausages.
H: And caught his long hair on fire. We’ll forget about ‘culinary’.
F: But mention his inquiring mind.
H: What did he ever inquire about?
F: The
number of
sausages in the frying-pan!
A demonstration of his interest in numeracy;
he counted the sausages, all five of them.
H: I seem to remember that he set the whole kitchen on fire.
F: He reacted quickly in an emergency.
H: Gerald did? How?
F: When his hair caught fire he panicked and threw the chip fat over the blazing cooker. It was lucky Mrs Brown came in with the fire extinguisher. She saved his life and probably mine too.
H: I don’t think I’ll mention any of that. Delete.
Appearance.
You realise, they are going to have to meet Gerald at some point.
F: Yes, I suppose they will.
H: -
if we can only get
him to his interview.
You'll have to smarten him up.
F: I will. So put down, - ‘you will find him extremely well presented.’
(Henry types)
H: Well presented.
F: ‘Extremely well presented.’
H: Oh dear, a complete make over? No expense spared!
Henry types
“Extremely well presented.”
F: And, it would make all the difference if he turned up at the interview in the nice – little - red – sports-car -
H: He is not turning up in a car!
F: No? Well, I really
need a new
car myself.
Perhaps, if the nice little red car were mine?
Henry splutters.
No, all right, stay calm. Would you like something to drink? Coffee?
H: Something stronger.
F: Coming up, right away! (calls) Mrs Bro-own!
H: Motivation: Now I can’t say that he is a “Couch potato”.
H. types
“You will find him a steady, level headed employee.”
F: You are getting good.
H: I’ll send it, before I change my mind.
H. hits a key triumphantly
Send!
F: Gone?
H: Gone.
F:
Good!
I hope we haven’t made him sound over qualified.
H: Mrs Brown’s a long time.
F:
She must be out
by the clothesline. I'd
better go and talk to her.
Oh I hate even to go out. I
could find
a note saying she’s already left us!
Henry, my life is sheer misery!
Calls out
Mrs Bro-own.
Exit Felicity
H: At last I may be allowed to get back to Goedel.
If I can show that there are theorems that can be proved but are not true, the whole of mathematics will be face down in the mud!
Types
Phone rings cue Mrs Brown's phone-decent battery
Henry mutters, answers phone, says crossly:
H: Hello. Who is
speaking?
Gerald’s probation officer!
(Affably)
Ah.
Yes, how can I help you, Sid?
Yes, I am aware of his missed probation attendances.
You see I have had to pay his fines.
I assure you I’d rather not pay them.
You blame me for making his life too easy for him?
I would really get grief from his mother if I didn’t pay them!
Sid, relax. Our
Gerald is about to
attend a job interview.
Yes. We believe
that he will soon be
joining the regular workforce.
You say you can see pink pigs flying overhead!
I think you may have been drinking too much, Sid.
No, you’re right. I
can see them now.
Well, at least something is getting off the ground.
Or, off it’s backside anyway.
Let’s hope it works out and we don’t have to
communicate again, Sid.
As you say, there goes another pig.
Bye!
H. rings off
H. becomes highly agitated!
Oh
blast! My machine has shut down.
It hasn’t saved my work!
I’ve lost
everything!
Tugs the power cord and the plug bounces towards him until he holds it in his hand.
That blasted woman. She’s
unplugged me!
Mrs Brown!!
RB: (off) Yeas, I ‘ear yer.
H: Come in here right now!
RB: I’m on me way.
Rosie enters
Yeas, Sir, what ‘as ‘appened?
H: You
disconnected my
power, Mrs Brown.
My battery has failed me. All
my work
has been lost!
RB: Oh dear. It’s a shame yer University don’t provide you with something decent and save this sort of trouble.
H: This
is my own
laptop. I have a
desk machine at the
University.
I just need a new battery.
RB:
Yer won’t get a
battery for that old thing, Sir.
Be cheaper to buy a new one.
And you
could get yerself som’fin with
wireless internet.
Save me tripping over all these trailing wires.
H: This
machine suits me
very well, Mrs Brown,
When it does not get unplugged!
RB: My Arfur‘s gorn into computers. Ee’d let yer have somefink real cheap - with a decent battery.
Ah, this
might be ‘im.
’Eello. Oh
‘ello, dear. (it’s
Arfur.)
Turns away from Henry, facing downstage.
Henry puts computer on table, closed, stands and moves threateningly behind Mrs Brown as she says:
Ah-yeas.
Yeas.
Yeas.
So I’ve no need to bovver?
Right-oh. I’ll
see yer later. Cheerio.
H: Mrs Brown!!! You were asking me for a reference!
RB:
Yeas Sir. Yer
don’t need ta bovver. Yer
done it.
That was Arfur saying ‘thank you for replying to 'is
email’ so quick.
His new business needs a delivery-man.
I recommended your Gerald to him.
I
hope yer don’t mind.
Henry gasps and seizes Mrs Brown’s hand
H: Mind? No, I am very grateful to you. Thank you.
RB: No need to thank me, Sir. Yer see, the Missus asked me to look in on Gerald. So I'm sortin' 'im art.
H: And do you think there is any chance that your Arthur will employ our Gerald?
RB:
Oh yes, o’ course ‘e
will, Sir. ‘E’ll
do as I tells ‘im.
Ees a good lad, eel do as I says.
RB pulls her hand free and picks up the vacuum cleaner power head.
H: Tell me Mrs Brown, are you sure you can't fly on that Magic Broomstick?
F: Oh Sir, yer cracks me up with yer jokes. Keep me in stitches, yer do!
Henry looks sadly at the computer.
H: Well I might as well drive in to the University and mark some assignments.
F: And I'd better finish 'angin' out that washin’ on the loine.
They exit in opposite directions, first Henry with a slouch, then Rosie with a happy skip.